


Illusion

by Nalyra



Series: A blackish red hue [4]
Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Bloodplay, Branding, Canon Compliant, Canon-Typical Violence, Dream Sex, Established Relationship, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Fanart, M/M, Murder Husbands, Original Character Death(s), Original Character(s), Post-Canon, Post-Episode: s03e13 The Wrath of the Lamb, Rough Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-29
Updated: 2016-09-25
Packaged: 2018-07-10 21:35:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 12
Words: 20,191
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7009021
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nalyra/pseuds/Nalyra
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Murder Husbands... back in the US.<br/>Some promises given, some promises kept.</p><p>--------->>>></p><p> </p><p>  <b>09/25/2016: CHAPTER INSERT: Judgement (Chapter 9)</b></p><p> </p><p>--------->>>></p><p>>> If you haven't, start with Baptism (pt 1 of this series), I do think it's necessary for character development.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I feel I need to put a fair warning here.
> 
> There is murder mixed with sex, though there will never be rape, I keep it with Bryan here.  
> Also, the promise to Alana is kept... in a way. I love 'Marlana' too much to just kill her off, so I thought up my own solution.
> 
> And they... no, spoiler^^.
> 
> Let me know what you think!!!

When Will steps off the little plane, the warm wind greets him, carrying the smell of greenery with it, and he just stands there for a moment on the airfield, breathing. Hannibal exchanges a few words with the pilot and receives an envelope in return, and steps up to him, smiling. Will squares his shoulders, chancing a look at Hannibals face, expecting some kind of comment but none come. Hannibal puts a hand to the small of his back, under his jacket, the touch at once warm, scorching and reassuringly familiar. No pressure, just holding. 

Will turns his face to the sun and lets the fact that he is once more on solid ground in the U.S. ripple through his consciousness. He cannot help feeling somewhat smug, standing here in the broad daylight with Hannibal, no police in sight, nor sirens heard. He smirks at Hannibal.

„Lead the way, honey.“

Hannibal eyebrows rise higher than Will has ever seen before, his expression incredulous.

„Honey?“

Will licks his lips, grinning.

„Well, we -are- more or less engaged, if I recall correctly, so I gather we need to try out some more pet names….“

Hannibal stares at him for a moment, eyes narrowed suspiciously.

„Be that as it may, I would rather not be called some sticky goo, delicious as it may be.“

Will sighs theatrically, pursing his lips, eyes twinkling.

„Well I’ll have to think about something else then. Hmmm. Sweetie? Cutie?“

Hannibal turns from him, picks their luggage and starts down the airway towards the parking lot next to the miniature tower. Will follows, snickering.

„Muffin? I like muffins. You gave me one once?“

Hannibal stops for a moment, shooting him a look that promises retribution.

„That was a bread pudding. And you can indeed consider yourself very lucky that I love you.“

Will grins broadly at him, racking his brain. 

„Hon’Bun? Pumpkin?“

Hannibal drops the luggage and comes at him, almost stomping the ground, kicking Wills fight or flight response quite a few gears higher, though he keeps his ground, grinning. Hannibal pushes his face very close to his, whispering, hands lightly on Wills hips.

„I would prefer if you would keep to ‚dear‘ or ‚beloved‘ for now, Will. I do not believe the rest of these… fluffy names will suit me or us, for that matter. But, if you insist on this insanity, I will take to calling you ‚doll face‘ - in public.“

Will gapes at him, and then starts to laugh uncontrollably, tears running down his face, almost doubling over, held by a smirking Hannibal and just shaking against him. He wipes the tears from his face, sniffing, feeling as light as he ever possibly could, hands placed on Hannibals chest, framing his heart. He nods, still sniffing, and somewhat giggling.

„Touché. Darling.“

Hannibal shakes his head at him, drawing back, picking their luggage back up and continuing towards the parking lot, and Will cannot stop smiling.

____________________

 

The car they got the keys for is an old Lincoln station wagon, deep red with wood, engine rather loud and Will, already in quite a very good mood, cannot help but off-handedly compare its features to the Bentley Hannibal once owned.  
Hannibal is stoic in his driving, though Will can sometimes see a minute twitch in his jaw. He knows he will probably pay for this dearly, though cannot bring himself to care. 

He chances a look at Hannibal, keeping the mirth down with an effort.

„Would you mind stopping for something to eat?“

Hannibal sighs, but nods.

„It would be wise if we would replenish our strength a bit. However, I believe there are only the restaurants called ‚diners‘ on this road.“

Will closes his eyes, forcibly having to restrain raising his fist. Industrial made pancakes. Bad coffee and scrambled eggs. Hamburgers with fake cheese. His stomach growls. Hannibal nods, wryly smirking, and the look he spares Will is indulgent and fond.

„Very well. We will stop at the next diner and cater to your bodies need for bad food.“

„Do we have cash?“

„I ordered some with this car. It is in a small bag in the trunk. I checked it when I put our luggage in. We should refrain from using our credit cards as much as possible.“

Will chews on that for a moment.

„The cards, they are on our fake names.“

„Yes?“

„I… do we still have any ‚correct‘ identification? Because… I want to marry Hannibal Lecter. If we do this. I mean, our fake names are fine, and of course you know who you are, and I know who I am, and so it shouldn’t make a big difference…“

He’s rambling and Hannibal stills him with a finger to his lips.

„Las Vegas is a fitting town to get fake identification, as I’m sure you know. And in our case, fake will be correct. But, yes, I agree, if we do this, we need to get our identification back. But not yet. There is always a risk ordering identification, we should do so close to when we choose to follow through.“

They enter a small settlement, not much more than a shady diner and some little houses. Hannibal pulls into the parking lot.

„Do you really wish to eat at this place? I would expect the chance of ingestion problems after this to be rather high.“

Will grins, getting out of their car.

„Chicken.“

 

__________________________

 

He can feel Hannibals eyes on his back, burning with barely contained indignity all the way through the empty diner to the little alcove in the corner, dropping into the seat with a sigh.

„Oh, it’s so good to be sitting… again.“

Hannibal looks at him, sitting down primly, tilting his head in consideration.

„I assure you, Will, if your intention is to make me ‚snap‘, that will not happen.“

Will grins, perusing the short menu.

„Why, can’t I be in a good mood? Considering the stupid wrinkles at my eyes that have developed over the last year I can prove that this isn’t the first time, so you should be used to it…. dear.“

Hannibal smiles at him softly.

„Indeed. And they suit you. I appreciate the fact that you can be so while being back here. To be honest, I had anticipated slightly different behavior, especially after relaying that information.“

Will sighs, sobering up, putting the menu away. He greets the young pretty waitress with an open smile, effortlessly drawing her in and making her blush, and orders coffee and waffles with everything on. Hannibal follows suit, though he leaves the bacon off, the waitress not quite looking up, trying to hide her blush, hurrying off. Hannibal eyes are crinkled at the corners, licking his lips.

Will smirks a moment and then levels Hannibal with an open look.

„Actually I thought it would be different, too. But I find myself increasingly not caring where we are. I’m glad that you told me about Molly. And I’m… relieved that she divorced right away, I wouldn’t want her to suffer unnecessarily. She… kept me sane during… well, you know.“

Hannibal taps his forefinger once.

„I am curious. What -did- you tell your lawyer? It was before we spoke about the plan, was it not?“

Will clears his throat, averting his eyes, looking out the window.

„Yeah. I… I made my choice when Francis paid me his little visit. It only took two minutes with him to make me realize that… it would never stop and that… I was jealous.“

He snorts, self deprecatingly.

„I … wanted your… attention for myself.“

He stops, waiting for the waitress to set down their coffees and for her to leave again, her never even looking at Hannibal.

„I decided, then. I went to go see my lawyer and told him there was a very high probability that something would happen to me. Considering I was on the payroll of the FBI at that point again, if only as a temporary consultant, he just shook his head and asked me exactly what I wanted to do with my possessions. I … told him to sell everything as soon as I were to be missing in action, transfer it to Molly and sign everything she wanted. I gave him power of attorney. I knew that… Winston and Buster were always happy with her, they will be very well cared for.“

He looks up at Hannibal, taking a sip of the not quite as bad as expected coffee.

„Chiyo kept taps, and that’s … all she wrote.“

He shrugs, smiling wryly.

Hannibal reaches over, tracing the veins on his hand for an instant before drawing back when their food arrives, nose wrinkling, utterly adoringly in Wills admittedly biased opinion.

He digs in, enjoying the surprisingly good food, smirking at Hannibal who sighs and follows suit.


	2. Chapter 2

They find a small motel off the track in Reno, no questions asked, no identification checked. The room has two single beds that Will pushes together as soon as they enter, making Hannibal smirk at him. Free WiFi has arrived even in this hovel and Hannibal sets the Macbook up with a pleased sigh, sitting down on the surprisingly clean bed, Will coming up behind him, settling against his back.

Hannibal checks for messages from Chiyo via the Tor network, but there are none yet so he just leaves a message for her, hidden in a request for a bit torrent for some tv show. Will places a kiss at the small of his neck, just below the hairline, hair now reminiscent of the look Hannibal wore back in Baltimore, though the light beard he keeps destroys that look quite efficiently. He hums against Hannibals skin, breathing him in, running his hands up his arms lightly. Hannibal puts the Macbook away and makes to turn, but Will stops him with a small tightening of his hands.

He gets to his knees behind Hannibal, using the leverage to get access to Hannibals throat and the side of his face, starting to mouth and lick at his ear, the jawline, the soft skin near his eye, his temple, everywhere he can reach, building the need between softly and slowly for once. When he tilts Hannibals head back onto his shoulder and licks into his mouth the soft sigh Hannibal gives clenches his heart. Hannibal hands come back onto his thighs, softly petting him, not interfering with whatever Will intends to do. Will continues to kiss him for a while, just slow glides of their lips and tongues, stubble softly rasping, the angle just comfortable enough.  
At one point he catches Hannibals tongue between his teeth, biting on it softly, making him moan deeply. He closes his mouth over his, sucking on Hannibals tongue now, clothing getting uncomfortable. He draws back with a groan, letting his head fall back for a moment, licking his lips, smiling to himself. He slides out from behind Hannibal and drops to his knees before him, smirking at him, pushing his knees apart.  
The dent in Hannibals pants is very obvious from this angle and Will rubs his cheek against his thigh, closing in slowly, breathing against the cloth, making Hannibal shudder lightly. He grins and does it again, hands following, lightly skimming Hannibals legs. Hannibal fists the blanket tightly, letting Will do what he wants, watching him intently, hunger softened by emotion, the beast tamed right now, but there, openly flashing in his gaze. It’s something that is happening more and more, both secure enough in this to let the other see beyond the obvious need. Will looks at him for a moment and then nuzzles at his stomach, fingers opening his pants slowly, drawing back slightly to remove the pants completely, Hannibal only helping by raising his hips when prompted.

It’s an obscene sight, Hannibal Lecter sitting before him, naked from the waist down, in socks, with his cock standing to attention and Will closes his eyes for a moment, swallowing, committing the scene to memory.  
When he opens them again he sees Hannibal smile at him knowingly, most certainly having done the same, his left hand coming up to drag his fingers lightly through his curls, pushing them off his forehead. It’s a very familiar motion, Hannibal always eager to see the marks he left on Will, even if misguided when placed there. It doesn’t bother Will anymore, the past having brought them here, and he leans into the caress, pressing a kiss to the palm.  
He ghosts his hands over Hannibals erection, seeing him shudder again, and draws near, inhaling. The smell is familiar by now, instantly desperately arousing and he moans slightly, trailing his lips over the soft skin to the head, dipping his tongue in for a moment, tasting the precome. They haven’t performed fellatio as often as one might think, the need to possess always so present between them, ending more often than not in one taking the other. This time it’s a tempered need, that’s making itself known, a low wildfire, fanned sedately.  
Hannibal touches his jaw, the soft touch making Will look up.

„Feel it with me…“

Will raises his eyebrows, vaguely stunned at the question, no the suggestion, and he has to draw back for an instant, considering. He swallows, fidgeting.

„I… have never used my … gift for sex. I once tried, and I got stuck in her shabby relationship behavior, utterly ruining the mood. Considering sex didn’t happen to me much anyway I never tried again.“

Hannibal bows low, tilting Wills head up a bit, kissing him very softly, smiling an almost transcendent smile.

„You already know everything there is about me, have envisioned me, know my mindset. And you are not the feeble shadow of yourself you were when you suppressed your desires. You are unfurling your wings and I sincerely hope you were able to make up for some of the sex you should have had…. Do not force it, just … share with me, my beautiful boy.“

Will sighs against his mouth, relaxing by increments, closing the distance again, their lips instinctually fitting and gliding together. He opens his mouth and traces his tongue along Hannibals mouth and then pushes him back up slowly, licking his lips. Reality blurs as he cranks up his empathy, lets his imagination run free, the pendulum not needed between them, pupils dilating, eyes heavily lidded but face tilted up, letting Hannibal see. 

He bends forward, tongue tracing the vein on Hannibals cock, feeling the echo his mind creates on his own. He feels out of his body and yet anchored there, on the floor, pleasure humming low key through his veins. He sighs softly, drags his lips over the soft skin once more, shivering at the sensation, fingers tightening on Hannibals thighs. He gives a tentative lick to the head, shuddering with Hannibal, almost gasping already. Hannibal gaze is a heavy weight on his body, welcome, like a blanket protecting them both. He mouths at the head, the taste heady and feels Hannibal sigh heavily, has to break the illusion slightly to open his own pants with shaking fingers to release his own aching cock, letting it jut against his own stomach, hands going back to Hannibals thighs immediately. He breathes against Hannibals cock, whispering.

„Put your hands on me…. help me, anchor me.“

Hannibal complies, the fingers tangling in his hair, pulling just hard enough, guiding Will. He lets reality blur again, feeling Hannibals pleasure in this, the trust needed a willing sacrifice to the nightmarish beast in Hannibal, clawing at it’s cage, oh so tempted by the situation Will put himself in, but reigned in by love and pure force of will, and he opens his mouth, Hannibal guiding him down slowly, Will moaning and shaking, the sensation his mouth creates on his own cock by proxy overwhelming already. He scrapes down slowly, teeth just there, not hurting but not hidden either, hissing for a moment at the sensation, the cool air of it making him gasp, drawing back. He pants slightly, feeling the short puffs of air heighten the sensitivity. He opens his mouth again with a moan, the whispered words surprising him a bit, apparently directly bypassing his brain.

„Use me…“

Hannibal groans sharply above him and then hisses and his fingers tighten reflexively. Will can feel the beast clawing frantic now and he is almost delirious with the darkness blending with the red haze of lust he is in. He feels his own skin break, the shadows cast by his antlers distorting the room. Hannibal pushes him down and he goes willingly, letting his self go, the mirrored sensations making him shake violently. He feels the cock head in his throat, withdrawing, then pushing, holding now, swallowing tightly, breathing hard when he can, Hannibal fucking almost violently yet strangely carefully into him, the soft hands on his hair a striking counterpoint, leaking hard in the hot wet heat, Will dripping on the floor with it, feeling the pressure when he changes the angle, going in deep. 

He groans, his body jerking and feels Hannibal come within him, his own orgasm triggered by the sensation, swallowing reflexively, the experience mirrored on his own cock head making him mewl, the possessive need transmitted by Hannibal a dark cloud swirling around them, keeping him, making him take it all and he jerks again, his mind a haze, the feeling of being swallowed down in ecstasy while being held tightly against Hannibals crotch blindingly erotic, excruciatingly intense. 

He gasps against Hannibal when he is pushed back, the cold air after the wet heat making them both hiss, leaning his head against Hannibals thigh, softly mewling, feels the whisper of his curls drift through Hannibals fingers, the double sensation on his head a maddening counterpoint. His eyes are shut now, visual input too much for his mind, closing in on himself, the glint of the rail beckoning.  
Hannibal senses the shift, still gasping, bends forward and softly tilts Wills head up, tracing his lips.

„Will. Come back to me.“

Will sways on his knees, caught in the net of his sensations, the surreal vision of the ravenstag towering over them both, dwarfing them and the room, it’s red eyes gleaming triumphant. He doesn’t move, too spellbound by his own vision and his world tilts and settles again. His eyes flutter, and in his mind he falls through a red ocean, the salty taste on his tongue evoking the smell of waves, the ebb and fall of them thundering in his ears, the shadowed antlers framing his mind. 

He comes back to himself slowly, lying on the bed next to Hannibal, with his head on his chest, the antlers receding, the ravenstag exploding soundlessly into a flock of crows, the thunder in his ear Hannibals heartbeat. He feels the rumble before he hears the voice, and sighs, pushing his head under Hannibals chin, stretching like a cat.

„I have never seen you submerged so deeply…. For a while I was even afraid you would not come back. It is a fascinating thing to witness your beautiful mind work so freely. To see you letting reality go so completely.“

Hannibal drags his fingers through his hair, massaging his scalp, his other harm tightening around him. 

„And yet, I would not wish for you to do this again when we indulge in physical pleasure. I would rather have you here, with me, in this reality. Though I will defer to your will in this. It is your mind after all.“

Will chuckles for a moment and then licks his lips, considering.

„It was… definitely something else. But no, I’d rather not do that again anytime soon. I… I got lost there for a moment, as if the pleasure dragged down all those walls I built so painstakingly over all my life.“

He twists around, pushes his head back to look Hannibal in the eyes.

„I could see the beast clawing inside of you…. you kept it’s leash so tightly… wanting it to be good for me… and it was, it was more than good.“

He smiles fondly, trailing his fingers over Hannibals stomach.

„But I don’t need my gift as you insist on calling it, to enjoy our sex. Still, I hope you relished the experiment.“

Hannibal bends down and kisses him, the kiss turning sloppy and wet instantly, the sated pleasure still humming, all tongue and teeth and heat. He draws back when they are both breathless again, biting at his jaw.

„Very much.“

______________________

 

They sleep for a while, jet lagged a bit still, waiting for the information from Chiyo, just enjoying the closeness. When evening arrives without another word, they go and find a little asian restaurant, the food very good. It’s a clear night, the sky full of stars and they walk back towards the hotel slowly when a car screeches to a halt next to them, and a gun is pointed at them through the window.

„Gimme your money or ya dead, pals!!“

Will sighs, vaguely amused, voice dripping with sarcasm, raising an eyebrow at Hannibal, hands in his pockets, utterly ignoring the perp.

„Well, of course this would happen when back here, where else?“

Hannibal purses his lips, a smile playing at his lips, unnerving the wannabe robber some more.

„Indeed. You have to admit, dear, this is rather rude.“

The guy cocks his weapon, yelling at them.

„Whassup with ya? Ya fags? Fucking gimme your money or you’re dust.“

Will turns towards him finally, eyes cold.

„Well, that was indeed very rude.“

Hannibal chimes in, his tone bordering on cheerful.

„Oh, very much so. It is unfortunate, that you did not find better use for that tongue.“

He glances at Will, the perp gaping at them, the hairs on his neck standing up but not clever enough to hit the gas.

„Would you mind if we did, dear?“

Wills voice is icy, hackles raised beyond comfort zone.

„No, not at all.“

Hannibal rushes forward in a black flash, slamming the guys hand with the gun up against the cars roof, the crunch of the bone sounding just milliseconds before the perp yells with the pain. Will comes up next to Hannibal, hand closing over the mans throat, effectively rendering him unconscious after a few moments. Will licks across his teeth, a wolfish grin on his lips. Hannibal scans the area for a moment before he leans near and devours Wills mouth for an instant. Hannibal leans passed him, taking the perps wallet and checking his ID.

„Would you like to go on a little trip, beloved?“

Wills eyes are dark, his skin prickling. He nods tightly.


	3. Chapter 3

They take the car out into towards the closest forest, the hiking trails advertised on large billboards. There is no other car in the parking lot and Hannibal sniffs the air, and then smirks at Will. He takes something from the mans wallet, pushing it into his back pocket. They take the man with them, arms hooked under his shoulders on either side, long since tied up with his own belt and silenced with some old cloth they found in the car.

They walk a while with him, enjoying the late summer night, almost fall now, the air fresh and scented with the aroma of fruits and falling leaves. They stop at a small ledge, the view breathtaking. Will looks at the sweating man between them, then further at Hannibal and they let the man go at the same time, the man stumbling and then dropping to the ground between them. Will raises his head to the sky, enjoying the breeze, while Hannibal drags the man backwards and props him up against a big rock.

Will turns to them, letting the thrill permeate his awareness. It’s no true hunt, but he can feel the bloodlust sing in his veins nonetheless. He licks his lips, looking at Hannibal, who comes to him slowly, his gait dangerous, hands sliding around Wills hips, hauling him in before he takes his mouth. The kiss is instantly bloody, Hannibal biting on his lower lip, hard, the wound inside his mouth bleeding profoundly. Hannibal sucks on it, moaning quietly until the bleeding slows down, pushing his hips into him minutely, Will enjoying the answering hardness, rotating his hips against it a bit.

Hannibal draws back, turns his head at the man trying to crawl away and sighs, the tilt of his head slightly mournful.

„It would seem that we need to proceed now.“

Will chuckles, mirthless.

„No rest for the wicked…“

He steps past Hannibal and lets the darkness take over, feeling it stretch behind and over him, like gigantic black wings, made of putrid smoke. He kneels down over the mans stomach, the reflection in the mans huge, fearful eyes making him pause, the vision of his irrevocable becoming overwhelming in shades of black and blue. He feeds on the image, inhaling the fear, feeling Hannibal settle behind him on the mans legs, reminiscent of the position they were in in Bedelias cellar, so long ago. He smiles ferally, reaches back and pulls Hannibals hands onto his thighs. He tilts his head back slightly and whispers, giddy with anticipation, yet terrified by it.

„Yes… I know you want to.“

Hannibal bites lightly at his neck, hands dragging towards his groin.

„It will hurt…“

Will laughs loudly at him, ending in a light whelp when Hannibals teeth close sharply on his earlobe. Hannibal withdraws his right hand, reaching into his jacket, drawing out a folding knife. He snicks it open, placing it on the forest floor next to Will, voice low, seductive, brutal. 

„I want you to kill him when you come.“

Will gasps, has to close his eyes for a moment, the man beneath them trashing, moaning behind the gag. He feels sick to his stomach, excitement mixing with anticipated dread. He wants and fears this, this, the ultimate proof of his choice, irredeemable, irrevocably becoming what they are meant to be, together, the man rude, yes but a far step from self defense or revenge. Or righteous violence. He takes shaking breaths, trying to calm himself, feels Hannibal push closer, his presence calming despite everything. Hannibal addresses the man beneath them, voice cruel, sneering.

„You called us fags, which of course is very rude, and is utterly insulting for what I and my fiancee share.“

Will shudders at the word fiancee, grinning fiercely, the shown emotion bordering on manic, but there is a tear trailing down his cheek. Still, he continues with the verdict in Hannibals stead, voice trembling but serene.

„Therefore, we will show you what we share… it will be the last thing you see…“

He pushes his hips back minutely, hearing Hannibal growl, considers, pushing through to the resolution for ‚them‘, accepting the beast.

„We’ll need lubricant…“

He runs his tongue along his teeth, takes the knife and cuts along his own palm. Hannibal hums at Will, kissing along the column of his neck, hands beneath his shirt on his stomach, tracing the smile, tickling lightly. 

Will puts the knife back onto the forest floor, puts his left hand on the side of the mans head, bracing himself, raises up to his knees. Hannibal hands make short work of his pants, the angle not good enough for a proper removal, but enough to expose him for this purpose. He is hard despite everything, panting already, feeling Hannibal shift behind him, the man so close to his face frantic, his fear feeding the darkness in Will and Will descends into it willingly. There is a small ripping sound and Hannibals hands take hold of Wills cock and pull a condom over him. Will looks over his shoulders quizzically, Hannibal explaining softly yet possessively.

„I do not wish to leave more evidence than absolutely necessary. With a bit of luck, they will not be able to connect us with this at all.“

Will smiles tightly at him and Hannibal reaches passed him and drags his fingers through the blood pooling in Wills closed hand, making him hiss. The smell permeates the air and the burn is exquisite when those fingers open Will roughly. It’s perfunctory and quick, both so used to this now, knowing exactly which buttons to push, yet the act itself always strikingly intimate and emotionally raw. Hannibal drapes himself over Wills back and places his hand over Wills against the rock, and pushes.   
Will hisses through his teeth, the pain exquisitely merging with faint pleasure, the man beneath them moaning low. It’s extremely slow going, blood being a terrible lubricant and Will is bracing himself through it, moaning deeply when he finally feels Hannibal settle all the way in. Hannibal groans against his neck, and then sits back, pulling Will with him, making him sit on his lap, the angle forcing Will to take him even deeper and he mewls with the burn, dropping his head forward, bracing his hands on Hannibals arms, who holds his hips fast now, making him take it all.

Will draws back up, eyes slitted, and starts moving his hips, enjoying the burn, gasping. Hannibal quickens the pace slowly, making sure to get the angle right, bringing them both closer to ecstasy with every move of his hips. Will laughs darkly at some point, the rustle in the leaves thundering in his ears as black wings and cannot keep the smile off his face afterwards. He keeps on smiling almost desperately through the buildup, the tears running down his cheeks washing a small part of his old self away, Hannibal slows down again when he starts to shake. He can feel it in his veins and opens his eyes again, looking down at the man beneath, pupils blown, takes his bloody right hand from Hannibals arm and, shaking, closes it over the knife. The man starts hyperventilating and Hannibal snaps his hips brutally, unerringly hitting his mark, Will gasping soundlessly, and in a second that seems to last an eternity brings the knife up and plunges it into the mans heart, the blood red haze descending onto his mind, merged with the white hot ecstasy of his orgasm. He feels Hannibal tremble, the beast roaring in triumph and hears the raw whisper through the fog of his lust and blood riddled brain.

„Mine.“

__________________

 

Will is silent when they drape the man against the rock, sitting as if sleeping, facing east, so the sun will illuminate him. It’s a rather simple design but he doesn’t object. He is silent when Hannibal cuts out the tongue and throws it in a trash can at the parking lot, not even pretending to want to eat it. He is silent on their way back towards town. He is silent when they drop the car off in a back alley, cleaning it perfunctory, likely dismantled before dawn. He is silent on the way back, taking busses and walking back. He is silent when they reach the room, continuing towards the bathroom and quietly closing the door behind him. He doesn’t look in the mirror. He knows he would see the utterly sated beast behind his eyes, mirroring the one in Hannibal, regretting nothing, the facade of humanity that is his face relaxed yet drawn, at ease and breaking, the contradiction unsettling him deeply. 

He sits down heavily on the edge of the bathtub, dragging his hands through his face, sighing, not looking up when he hears the door. Hannibal quietly inspects his palm and places a bandaid on it, the wound superficial at best, sits down next to him, not speaking for a long moment, and when he does, his voice is unexpectedly kind.

„To be honest, I had expected this much sooner.“

Will looks up, eyes hooded.

„This?“

Hannibal nods once, smirking self deprecatingly.

„We were so successful laying low, living with each other… You have mentioned it was like a dream or a prolonged vacation and you are correct in your assessment. We allowed ourselves a timeout, if you so will, a sabbatical, where our true selves would be tempered and tamed, only rising to self defense and some simple vengeance. It is not truly who I am though, as I am sure you are very much aware. It is not truly who you are, either, which is why you were able to enjoy tonight after all. I know you are unsettled by your feelings tonight and I will not push you through them.“

He turns to Will, who looks at him from his head hanging between his shoulders, tilted towards Hannibal to catch his gaze.

„I am … grateful that this has not happened before, Will. I know you reached a resolution tonight, coming to a final decision if you so will. I know you chose us. I believe this would probably not always have been the case.“

Hannibal stands up, slowly dragging his fingers through Wills curls.

„Take all the time you need. The only important thing is, that you are indeed… here. With me.“

He lets the hand drop from Wills head, grazing his jaw and then turns and leaves. Will stares at the tiles opposite of him, trying to reconcile the last remnants of his old self with the emerging new, the latter addictively carefree. 

The sun is up already when Will crawls into bed with Hannibal, unshowered, fully clothed, spooning up behind him, holding fast. Hannibal turns in his arms, awake, apparently waiting for him, drawing him in, pulling him ever closer by a leg over his hips. The pieces in Will jostle back into place, the edges catching but fitting with the pressure, broken pieces reformed. He holds onto Hannibal in a death grip, pushes his nose into his neck and finally sleeps.


	4. Chapter 4

The soft chime of the incoming message makes Hannibal stretch like a cat in his arms, Will groaning, his back popping when he follows the motion. Apparently he didn’t move for the last few hours. At all - his muscles are locked.  
He looks at Hannibal, searching his eyes, their reddish glow even more prominent when illuminated by the sun filtering through the window. He swallows.

„Guess, after all, it’ll still take some time.“

Hannibal smirks at him.

„No metamorphosis is instant.“

Will releases a shuddering breath. 

„What if I don’t … what if I can’t shake this sliver of humanity after all? I’m here, but… aside from the physical side I didn’t enjoy that…“

Hannibal looks at him knowingly and Will fidgets.

„Much.“

He sighs, shaking his head minutely on the pillow.

„Still, what if I can never fully enjoy this? What if it’s something that will grow between us, like a frigging tumor? I don’t have your appetite… I have told you that before.“

Hannibal moves a bit, trying to get ever closer, stalling, voice insistent when he finally speaks.

„Did it prevent you from choosing me? You knew all that about me before, have seen me, more intimately than anyone before. Would you stop me now?“

Will can feel himself shaking his head slowly before the words on his tongue can be properly processed. He swallows them and the uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach down, listening to the rumble in Hannibals chest when he continues.

„If the rude are not to your liking we will find the ones that are. It is as simple as that, and, as I have told you before - we will find a way.“

Hannibal ghosts his lips over Wills mouth, ignoring his unbrushed teeth.

„Still, you were magnificent. Lithe and deadly under the stars. He was touched by a beauty he did not deserve to behold.“

Will pushes his forehead against Hannibals, mute again. He sighs and relaxes minutely, Hannibal petting him softly, soothingly, until he falls asleep again.

___________________

 

When he wakes, Hannibal is gone.  
It is late afternoon and there is a handwritten note next to the Macbook saying that he went to get some food and that there are some interesting news. Will snorts and then fiddles with the note, not sure if he wishes to actually open the Macbook and take look at Tattle Crime or not. In the end he does not, but opts for a shower, most of his dark thoughts swirling with the water down the drain, emerging with some more of his old skin shed. 

He is brushing his teeth when Hannibal enters again, carrying an assortment of bags and packages, the sheer amount hilarious.

Will spits, rinses and then goes into the little room, eyeing the bags and packages dubiously.

„A portable stove?? How long did you wanna stay here?“

„Only for the next few days, however, we are in dire need of proper nutrition and another visit at a diner will simply not do and continued restaurant visits may be too suspicious.“

„Ah. And… where exactly do you want to set that up in here?“

„I would prefer to remove the TV and set up the stove there, we can use the sideboards for preparation.“

Will snorts softly, ignoring the sidelong gaze of Hannibal, shaking his head. He grins.

„So, what’re we having?“

„Unfortunately the little butcher I found close only carried some steaks that were… decent. I will make us some spinach, salad and gnocchi to go with it.“

Hannibal looks at him, head tilted, curious.

„Did you look at Chiyos message?“

Will pushes his hands into the pockets of his jeans, slightly defensive.

„No.“

Hannibal turns back to unpacking his groceries, switching the alcohol from the minibar with vegetables and meat.

„I see. Would you like to know what it said?“

Will sighs through his nose, closing his eyes, and waits, the weight of Hannibals gaze heavy on him, his voice deceptively light though when he continues.

„She did indeed find out the address of the ranch that Margot and Alana hide on. Chiyo will have someone scout the area for us. We will wait for the report and then make our own… plans.“

Will exhales through his mouth, suddenly feeling wound up and more relaxed at the same time. He smirks softly, self deprecatingly, words aimed not exclusively at dinner. 

„Can I help?“

Hannibal smirks at him, and passes him some ginger.

„Would you like some ginger? Apparently the date has been set for christmas, which as you know, is only 3 months away.“

Will twirls the little root around in his hand and then returns the smirk. 

„Will I get to slice it?“

Hannibal shoots a look at him and theres a sliver of hurt, there and gone, a flash of their past, too hurtful to be ever properly buried. Will comes up behind him and drops his head on his shoulder, sighing softly.

„It wasn’t all a lie back then, you know. For one, it really was ‚long pig‘ that we ate.“

Hannibal clicks his tongue, smirking again.

„I am aware. I believe it must have been Randall Tier? And …. as much as it pains me to admit, your plan was cunning and I actually am in debt to Miss Lounds that it did not succeed. You were very successful in your endeavors.“

„To Freddie? Why?“

„I could smell her on you. She uses a certain hair product that clung to you when you came by that evening when we destroyed those records.“

Will raises his eyebrows, nudging Hannibals jaw with his nose softly.

„Well, then I guess we can’t slice the ginger after all, can we? I mean, if it wouldn’t be for Freddie, we wouldn’t be here now….“ 

Hannibal tilts his head at him, considering.

„What is it you are proposing?“

Will grins at him and throws the ginger in the trash.


	5. Chapter 5

They rent a car and take some trips to the hiking trails in the next few days, staying off the one they used for the disposal of the man, his death only a side note in the news, their design not obvious enough to raise alarms, no DNA found for analysis. On the second day they stop at a little off track drug dealer, Hannibal coming back with a small box with a little syringe in it. Will takes a look, reads the label and shudders.

Will is almost deliriously happy being out and in nature again, ignoring his aching feet and aching bones, somewhat rusty from being holed up on the boat for so long. Hannibal seems to enjoy it as well, though he derives his joy mostly from watching Will. Hannibal introduces some training to the hikes, the necessary clothes ordered online again, of course.  
On their third trip they find a small clearing, almost completely covered in moss, and Hannibal insists on taking up fight training there. Will isn’t very keen on the idea at first, which changes quickly when Hannibal knocks him flat three times in a row, police training be damned. Their little fights get vicious after that, both releasing the tension and the beasts inside, returning to their room with a lot of bruises more often than not. 

Will drops into the moss, panting harshly, the fourth day with the fighting lessons, having finally managed to get the upper hand once, shaking his head in disbelief.

„Aren’t you quite a few years older than me??“

Hannibal chuckles, equally breathless.

„My … lifestyle meant that I could not slouch in regards to physical fitness and fighting skills. I made sure to get some professional training under my belt before I started and I am never afraid to fight dirty.“

Will cackles, holding his bruised ribs.

„Yeah, -that- I am aware of.“

Hannibal pulls his shirt up, inspecting the bruises.

„Nothing broken. You will live.“

Will hums, smiling contently with breath returning slowly.

„My life’s yours to take anyway, so there’s no need to worry about that.“

It’s like a shadow running over Hannibals face, the need instantly there, pupils dilated eclipsing the red, the beast clawing at the reigns. Will swallows and then reaches for him, softly closing on the collar of Hannibals shirt, drawing him near without any resistance. He opens his legs, and feels Hannibal settle between them, scorching hot, his gaze locking with his. Hannibal settles over him with his arms braced on his underarms next to his head, and slowly rolls his hips, making Will sigh. His blood rushes south, aroused instantly as he always is now when Hannibal is so close. He licks his lips, trying to kiss him but Hannibals hands glide into his locks and hold on tight, drawing his head back a bit, exposing his throat. Hannibal’s voice has a dreamlike quality when he ducks his head and runs his teeth along Wills collarbones.

„I wish to paint your skin…“

Will moans and then nods as much as he can, already flushed by the knowledge of things to come, the forest around them quiet yet alive.  
Hannibal sighs against his skin and some of the urgency vanishes, the need sedately fanned to keep burning with slow rolls of their hips. Hannibal starts to suck on the skin just visible above the collar of Wills shirt, teeth there but not breaking skin. He rips his shirt open and then continues to suck and bite at every visible sliver of skin there for a long while, Will slightly moaning with the almost pain of the hickeys, traveling slowly higher, their hips still keeping that slow rhythm, the urgency increasing again. Hannibal reaches Wills pulse point below his ear and, drawing his head sideways, starts to lick at it, breathing against it, presses kisses to it, Will shivering with every sensation to that spot, hips jerking now intermittently, giving himself over. He distantly wonders whether he could come like this, all the other usual erogenous zones more or less ignored and moans when he hears Hannibal sigh and tell him that he will, only then realizing he spoke aloud. Hannibal keeps him there, attending to the same spot over and over, stubble rasping softly, and Hannibal slides his lower legs over Wills, rising his hips and keeping him pinned now, hips only whispering against each other. The promise of touch has Will almost panting, harshly gripping at Hannibals shoulders. He is leaking in his pants, so utterly turned on now, and then Hannibal starts to suck on that spot, teeth biting now, and Will knows that if he were to bite him now, there, it would be a fatal bite. The knowledge brings him right to the edge, sightlessly staring at the sky and he grunts desperately, trying to get more friction, his hips restless. Hannibal pushes him down forcefully and turns his head to look in his eyes, searching his eyes and grins lewdly, and then pushes his head back sideways almost forcefully.  
His hot breath on his ear is torment racing down Wills spine, making him arch and yell through clenched teeth, the whisper following it being the final straw.

„Come for me.“

Will knows he will before he feels the touch, the slick tongue dipping into his ear in staccato licks, mimicking another action perfectly, his body so attuned to Hannibals desires, it succumbs in heaving jerks, almost shouting, Hannibal still licking his ear, making Will shake and mewl torturously and continues to do so until the shaking subsides and the moaning settles again, Will slowly relaxing his hands again, the joints aching from locking the muscles too long, draping them loosely around Hannibals neck. Hannibal hums against his oversensitive skin, making him shudder again and then slowly releases his head, turning it towards him with a hand on his jaw and claims his mouth, the kiss wet and sloppy, his tongue mimicking the action in his ear, sliding so deep he can get, stealing his breath again. Will feels him open his pants and then his own and chuckles against him, not objecting to being used.

„Wait, let me turn…“

„No.“

Hannibal reaches into Wills pants and drags his right hand fingers through the sticky mess there, making Will hiss with the feeling. He grabs his locks again with his left hand fingers and kisses him urgently, the kiss turning bloody when his teeth clamp onto Wills lower lip. Will feels Hannibal jerk himself off, the knowledge that he uses Wills come as lubricant sending helpless arousal back up his spine. Hannibal grunts into his mouth and draws ever closer with his hips, and Will can feel Hannibals cock brush his skin on every stroke. Hannibal moans into his mouth now, very close and Will takes over the kiss, fucking his tongue into Hannibals mouth, one hand in his hair holding tight and the other on his ass, drawing him in, and Hannibal takes his own hand away and uses Wills body for the final few pushes, suddenly bracing and Will feels the spurts on his skin and moans with the heavenly dirty feeling of it. 

They stay there for a while, almost dozing, Hannibal mouth softly returning to that spot on Wills throat from time to time, both hissing and then laughing when they finally draw back from each other, the decision to let the mess dry a not very clever one. Will cackles freely at the face Hannibal makes, closing his eyes and draws a deep breath, preparing himself for the return of reality. Hannibal draws his fingers lightly over his forehead, a faraway look in his eyes and Will knows that one more room of the mind palace is now occupied. He smiles and copies the motion.

_________________

 

It’s when he looks into the mirror in their bathroom that he understands the looks they got on the parking lot, Will not caring for them anyway but wondering still. The whole left side of his throat is a giant hickey, the deep red color segueing into purple at the base of his throat, and down his chest. He licks his lips and smirks, resigning himself to wear a scarf out for the next few days, grinning still when he exits the bathroom.

„You forgot a side….“

Hannibal cocks his head, his smirk rather self satisfied.

„I wish to repeat this rather satisfying scientific experiment soon. I believe you would not be averse to this?“

Will clears his throat, blushing slightly and smirks, spreading his hands. 

„Be my guest…. But I need a scarf to go out.“

Hannibal looks at their clothes, his forehead wrinkling though his voice has a teasing note.

„I will buy one online for you. You will probably have to stay inside with me until it arrives though.“

Will purses his lips, amused.

„Ah…well. Whatever can I do during that time…“

Hannibal comes over and kisses him softly, but draws back again right away.

„Insatiable boy. I will need to feed you first.“

As if on cue Wills stomach rumbles and Hannibal chuckles.

____________________

 

The soft chime from the Macbook reaches them eating ice-cream as dessert, Will insisting on keeping it simple and sharing a spoon, the ensuing teasing light and without urgency. He slides in Hannibals lap and makes him finish their dessert before he lets him divert his attention to the Email. 

It is the report they have been waiting for, describing the ranch and its security setup. Will drums his hands on the back of the chair, and huffs a breath.

„Do you believe that information?“

„I have no reason not to. Chiyo has checked this information and it seems valid. There are approximately 5 bodyguards and several servants on that ranch, the teachers and nanny not included. And a chef.“

Wills fingers stop drumming, and he licks along his teeth. Hannibal grins at him, his head tilted back and then gets up and gets some chicken filets from their little mini bar refrigerator. He puts them on the counter, retrieving the little syringe and injects the meat before he places them back in the freezer. Will clicks his tongue and walks over slowly, eyes mischievous, encircling his waist and resting his chin on Hannibals shoulder.

„Now, there’s a bad boy….“


	6. Chapter 6

They check out the next day, return the rental and stash their weekenders at a short term storage, only taking a few items with them that fit comfortably in a backpack each, plus the meat, tightly bundled in a freezing wrap. It would not do to spoil it. They buy two motorbikes, black and high on power, opting for mobility and buy some leather clothes to wear with them, the actual buying process a rather lengthy one because their hands just keep on wandering.

They leave Reno by nightfall, keeping painstakingly to the speed limit, but nonetheless enjoying the uneventful drive northeast, the winding roads taking them across deserts and into the rockies towards Yellowstone. They break near dawn, buying gas, soggy sandwiches and worse coffee at a truck stop, continuing towards ‚Afton‘, Wyoming and reaching it after almost 11 hours. They check into the inn, taking two rooms, vaguely surprised this little city at the end of the world even has a very small airport. They sleep, ordering food to their rooms, staying in Hannibals, waiting for the afternoon.

They check the map repeatedly against the info from Chiyo, Will impressed at the utterly utilitarian design of the farm, the term ranch too good an euphemism. Apparently they weren’t the only ones successfully laying low, he wonders aloud while chewing on a breadstick.

„How -did- Chiyo find them?“

„Apparently there was a letter, the address not quite correct, that was sent back and then redirected again. The corrected address was entered by an overworked data analyst in a database that was hacked for credit card information. Chiyo bought that data by chance and traced them down.“

Will nods, openly appreciative of her skill. Hannibal chances a look at the clock and takes his hand, squeezes for an instant.

„Ready?“

Will leans over and kisses him open mouthed for an instant.

„Yes.“

_____________________

 

They saunter over to the little car parked near the bakery, it’s second stop after the butcher, license plates matching their information and Hannibal gets in, expertly opening the lock and places their … gift with the other meat, while Will keeps watch. Hannibal gets back out nonchalantly, smirking at him, while Will shakes his head, quietly wondering if their luck will ever run out. The cars owner comes out in a hurry, carrying bags of bread and drops them on top of the meat that was so uncaringly pre-ordered online, hitting the gas and speeds towards the farm, Hannibal and Will looking on dispassionately. 

They go for a coffee and muffins, Hannibal grunting unhappily at the available selection but eating one nonetheless, staying off the main road and returning to their rooms when the sun sets. 

They suit back up into their dark leather, get out the backdoor, get their bikes and push them quietly for a few blocks, before starting them and driving towards their destination.

Hannibal pulls into the next street after their destination, the little street only sporting a few houses, slowly rolling towards its end and stops there. Will puts the bike next to his and they make a show of having to take a pee and taking their picnic equipment with them. Not that it matters, the few houses all dark around them. Hannibal takes their guns with silencers, stashed on the Demeter so long ago and shipped across the world in diplomatic disguise and gives one to Will, who puts it in the back of his pants. Will breathes deeply and then goes and opens his own backpack and retrieves the little black box. He quickly checks the contents, both vials still safely tucked in. He closes the box and tucks it into his inner pocket, his heart beating against it, heavily drumming. Hannibal pushes a stray lock out of his face and draws his fingers through his hair, taming them a bit and Will realizes that Hannibal grooms him a bit. Will grins wryly and gives Hannibal a lingering kiss that promises more, before stepping back.

„Wait for me?“

„Always.“


	7. Chapter 7

It’s not a long walk, the farm lit in the distance, maybe 300m away. Will keeps to the shadows, lapels up, his black scarf over his nose and mouth, his gloved hands carefully parting the vegetation in his way. He checks the cheap watch Hannibal got him for this purpose, pitch black and only illuminated by tiny figures and deems the time fit. He slowly draws nearer to the main house and its adjoining barn, hearing the retching sounds from the barn with grim satisfaction. So, at least some of their plan worked. He draws a deep breath and pushes close to the barns wall, trying to get a sense of how many people might be in it. He can distinguish between 4 people moaning and retching, and apparently one other in the small bathroom at the back of the barn.

Will draws back and walks up to the main house, carefully checking the windows and trying to catch a look of their target. Alana, he reminds himself.  
He finally catches sight of Margot in the third window he checks, the interior much nicer than the exterior suggests, sees her sitting looking bored on a small sofa, nursing a drink, her son playing at her feet with some Lego. Well, that is not so fortunate. There is a big table next to them, the dishes on them mainly vegetarian. Though the third dish carries some chicken and suddenly Will grins fiercely at Alanas absence. He ducks under the window and continues until he hears a woman retching. He clicks his tongue and lets his darkness envelop him, his neck pierced by invisible antlers, drawing in confidence. He looks up, the little bathroom window a bit too high to scale and so he enters the house through the next ground window, carefully checking for vacancy.

The interior has indeed been refitted, the guest room he is in pleasantly modern, and obviously housing one of the bodyguards, though he is nowhere to be seen. Will opens the door slowly and quietly and is almost delirious with relief when he sees the stairs directly across. He checks the floor and the sounds from the dining room, Morgan still playing, making woosh-woosh sounds with his Lego starships, the clink of glasses as Margot gets up and refills her drink.

Will sneaks up the stairs, staying on the edges lest the old stages creak.  
He stops at the top, straining to listen. There is no sound in the house, the norovirus they injected into the chicken filets having done its work apparently very quickly and reliably. He walks up to the bathroom door slowly, draws his gun and then unlocks the door forcibly from the outside by using a very strong magnet, pushing out the little knob and steps in, closing the door quickly behind him.

Alana looks at him as if he is a ghost, obviously not recognizing him at first, eyes wide with terror trained on the gun before she retches again and has to grip the toilet again. She comes up again, panting, almost sobbing, pale, mascara running down her cheeks, the very image of frightened misery. Will almost feels pity. He slowly pulls down his scarf, revealing his face, her eyes widening in shock when she recognizes him, her voice raw with the retching and emotion, blue eyes huge in her drawn face.

„Will….“

She swallows painfully, tries to collect herself, force the nausea down.

„This may be a bad time.“

Will smirks, sits himself on the edge of the bathtub, the very picture of relaxed awareness. 

„Oh, I can assure you, this is the perfect time.“

Alana looks at him unbelieving, forcing down another bout.

„You… you did this?“

„We did. It is unfortunate that Margot and Morgan became vegetarians though with their history I guess I can emphasize….“

He makes a face, smiling wryly and continues, watching her face closely.

„First, I wanna thank you that you don’t attempt to scream. I’d rather have hated tying you up while you are sick to your stomach…“

Alana closes her eyes, her lashes wet when she opens them again.

„Where is he?“

„Near…“

„Will he come for me… now?“

Will sighs through his nose, clicking his tongue.

„Would you like him to?“

Alana looks at him as if he had just grown two heads.

„What?? No!! I want the goddamn son of a bitch dead!“

She swallows again, trying to calm herself.

„So did you, once upon a time… You were a good man once, Will. Why did you throw him off the cliff?“

„I threw -us- of that cliff, Alana. It was… my choice, my baptism, my…. fate.“

He smiles, the elation of this revelation rushing through him again, the echo of the chafing wind in Hannibals arms rushing through his veins, burning up his skin. He smiles, the motion alone scaring Alana into silence. Will looks at her for a moment and then continues.

„I have a proposition for you, Alana. As I’m sure you know I never… had more than a concept of family and therefore I’m… loathe to force Morgan through a similar situation. So we come with an alternative, not exactly changing the outcome, but changing the…. timeframe. However, this alternative comes with a price.“

He levels her with a stare, his eyes grey and icy in the harsh bathroom light. Alana sobs quietly, once, and then sits back on her haunches, hands on her knees, and forces herself to ask.

„What price?“

„Well for one the bounty of course. Do you know that Hannibal and I lived quite happily down in France when you sent that unfortunate bounty hunter after us? Or did he send himself… It doesn’t matter. The bid for our heads will always be a thorn in our side, law enforcement not even counting. We want it off.“

Alana nods slightly but shakes her head, spreading her hands in a helpless gesture.

„I have no idea how I can make Margot do that.“

Will laughs at her quietly, making her snap her head up and level him with a furious look.

„Well, with the truth of course. You don’t have to lie about our meeting… Don’t worry, if she really loves you she will comply. I give you my word, that she and your son will be safe if you … consent.“

Alana swallows again and Will can see the exact moment she breaks, starts to shake badly. He gets up and takes a bathrobe from the wall, draping it over her carefully, staying out of her reach though she hardly moves. She draws the robe around her, her face deathly white, finally raising her eyes to his.

„Consent? To what?“

Will reaches out and flushes the toilet, the sharp smell rather disgusting and sits back down on the bathtub again, shrugging.

„Well, to call off the bounty mostly. And drinking a few drops of this.“

He takes the little black box out of his inner pocket and retrieves one of the vials, holding it out for her for inspection. She is shaking now in earnest.

„What is it?“

„This is a slightly radioactive substance. If you would ingest this whole vial, it would kill you within 2 months. If you ingest 5 drops, we think that you will be alive to see Morgan graduate and marry, though you may be quite sick by then. Likely some form of cancer. There is no cure. It will kill you. Slowly. What I can offer you is time, an illusion of safety for a very long time.“

She is weeping now, though her eyes are clear.

„What -you- can offer me?“

He sighs, giving her a small smile, genuine and affectionate and reaches out with his free hand, trailing along her cheek, quietly quoting.

„Fate and circumstance have brought us to this moment, when the teacup shatters.“

He draws back, regarding her somberly.

„He has … acquiesced to letting me offer you this. You know that you are already dead to him. Take it or leave it, but choose the consequences wisely. There will be no other offer.“

Alana nods, but asks anyways.

„What happens if I decline?“

Will looks at her unsmiling, then retrieves the other vial.

„This is the -much- higher concentration. At some point it will be in your families water, be it bottled, imported or not. It kills within 48 hours. There is no cure. Margot or Morgan will die with you.“

Alana gapes at him, some of her spunk returning with her fury.

„You wouldn’t!!! We’re talking about an innocent child here, Will! You are better than this… this savagery?!“

She is almost yelling and he gently and carefully pushes the silencer against her forehead, quieting her effectively. He shushes her, pulling the gun back, his whisper fierce.

„Yes, I am. That’s why I came alone and that’s why the first offer stands at all. You knew he was coming after you Alana. Live your life, be it even in his shadow. And Alana, one more thing.“

He grins wildly, letting the darkness shine for a moment.

„If we are ever caught you better make sure to put us in adjoined cells…. oh and - you will have to keep your promise. We -will- check.“

He draws back, adding the straw that would break the camels back.

„But if you promise and take the offer, you wouldn’t need to hide anymore in fear, Alana. The running would be over. You, Margot and Morgan can leave this… hovel and return to your life. For a rather long while. Morgan can have real friends. A real life.“

Her eyes close and Will knows he has won. He draws a breath, not elated though slightly relieved. He draws a glass of water from the tap, adding five drops of the lower concentrated liquid, offering it to Alana quietly. 

Her hand is shaking but Will steadies it silently, carefully, gently, ghosting a kiss on her forehead. 

„Drink up, Alana.“


	8. Chapter 8

It’s way past midnight when starts towards Hannibal, having watched Alanas return to Margot and her son, witnessing their tearful breakdown and then calm acceptance from afar. They didn’t alert the bodyguards and Will knows in his heart that they won’t. It has worked. He walks slowly, breathing in the cold air, watching the stars. He smiles softly when he sees their bikes, though he cannot see Hannibal. He saunters over, turning when he feels Hannibals presence at his side.

Hannibal is a black shadow, violently shoving Will against a tree, the beast almost completely unleashed, snarling, hand pressing into Wills already bruised throat.

„Dear Will, whatever took you so long?“

„Didn’t you see?“

„As you may recall I acquiesced to let you do this. I waited. For 7 hours.“

He tightens the hand on Wills throat, eyes wild and fathomless black with fury fueled by desperate fear. Will raises a hand and traces a finger along Hannibals lips, and smiles, ignoring the pain in his throat or the difficulty he has drawing breath, forcing the words out in a whisper, almost inaudible.

„She took the offer. I… made sure they kept their promise… at least for now.“

Hannibal just stares at him for a long moment, frozen in a cage of emotional despair, brittle with helpless terror and Will lets it break at its own pace. It’s a beautiful thing to witness the minute changes in Hannibals face right before he claims Wills mouth, Will feeling utterly humbled, the love he feels from Hannibal clawing at his soul, his own love for him a deep chasm in his chest, pulling them ever deeper.

He lets Hannibal take what he wants, the kiss wild and deep and sharp, teeth clashing, Hannibal opening his mouth wider to get ever closer, breath a luxury they forego for now. Hannibal collapses his knees, dragging Will down with him and they fall to the floor, grappling at each other, almost fighting, until Will throws his head back, breaking the kiss, desperately gasping for breath. Hannibal latches onto his throat, deepening the bruises ever more and Will revels in the exquisite pain for a moment, starlight upon them, before he forces Hannibals head up to look him in the eye.

„We need to go. We can’t stay here now. Even if Alana and Margot adhere to the plan, the bodyguards will find my tracks in the morning. And they’ll be pissed. That virus really did a number on them.“

He softly puts his forehead against Hannibals, smiling tightly, pushing to get up, but Hannibal grabs his left hand wrist in an iron grip, painfully tight. Will settles back down onto the ground next to him, not fighting the grip, intent to give Hannibal every reassurance he may need now, the vulnerability too rare and precious to endanger in any way.

Hannibal drags his hand into his back pocket and retrieves a little pouch, upends it on the ground next to Wills head and takes the little item into his hand. He holds Wills gaze, his eyes not giving anything away and Will just waits, wholly accepting. The drag of cold metal on his finger startles him, and he breaks the gaze to look at Hannibals hand pushing a dark grey ring on his ring finger, the starlight almost swallowed by the brushed surface. Suddenly he is short of breath again, swallowing tightly, whispering dumbfoundedly.

„I thought… I thought we’d get matching rings at our little Vegas gunshot wedding?“

Hannibal kisses him for a moment, softly now, the obvious attempts he needs to speak making Will smile at him softly.

„I… there is a matching ring for me, the rings indeed meant for that purpose. However I find that I want you to wear it as long as possible, and, though not legally binding I suppose, I find myself needing to see it on you.“

Hannibal smiles wryly, his tone tight.

„I am aware that this may be not what you wanted.“

Will shakes his head and kisses him deeply for a moment.

„Shut up. Whenever did you manage…? And what is it? And… get yours out for heavens sake, will you?!“

Hannibal draws near until their foreheads touch, his tone emotionally exhausted.

„I went out and bought them when we stayed in Reno. On my groceries trip. I did not plan to, they simply caught my eye in passing. They are made from platinum. I put an engraving into them. ‚Donec mors nos separabit‘.“

Of course. ‚Until death will separate us.‘ Will swallows, nuzzling closer, wondering at the ways fate works, whispering against Hannibals mouth.

„Give me yours.“

Hannibal swallows, then draws the pouch from his inner pocket and hesitates. Will clicks his tongue, chuckling now, takes it from him and opens it, drawing out the twin ring, feeling its weight heavy in his palm. He takes Hannibals left hand with shaking fingers, the emotion so raw and pushes it on, his breath leaving him in a big rush, both looking down at their hands. Their connection feels more true and vulnerable now than ever before, leaving them both shaken with the force of it. 

„Fuck…“

It’s Wills breathless whisper of course, but it’s Hannibal who snorts at it, breaking some of the tension. He bumps his forehead against Wills softly.

„Well, as you have so aptly pointed out, we indeed cannot. We need to return to Reno. However, I would like to go north from here, sell the bikes and then take an overnight train.“

Will licks his lips, smiling widely, insanely giddy.

„Can we keep the leather?“


	9. INSERT CHAPTER: Judgement

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This was a (standalone) chapter for the Hannibal Big Bang, for which there was beautiful beautiful art created. I think it belongs at it's rightful position though. :)
> 
> And Hachiseikos art deserves to be seen.^^
> 
> Originally posted here:  
> [Judgement](http://archiveofourown.org/works/8022352)

Will is tired, the dream of this night a swirl of emotions and impressions, the road vanishing behind him, swallowed by his motor bike. Hannibal is on his black bike before him, precisely keeping to the speed limit, driving north. Will flexes his left hand again, feels the ring, it’s heavy weight a strange but welcome weight. He pulls up besides Hannibal, tilting his head when he looks over, indicating a rest. Hannibal nods once and pulls over at the next crossing, a big boulder in one corner of the intersecting street serving as a bench for them, half hidden under some trees.  
Will parks his bike next to Hannibals, hidden behind the border in the gravel, pulls the helmet off with a sigh, putting his gloves on the boulder next to him, tilting his face to the morning sky, closing his eyes, inhaling deeply. Hannibal settles next to him quietly, watching him, his gaze heavily felt. Will grins for a moment, sobering up a moment later and reaches over, entwining their fingers. 

"Don’t worry, I’m fine… it was my choice, as you may recall.“

Hannibal strokes his thumb over his ring finger, lightly catching on the dark metal. 

„I am aware. But doling out judgement is not done lightly. Tell me, Will, how does that make you feel?“

Will snorts, chancing a lightly peeved look at Hannibal.

„Oh please, Dr. Lecter, you can do better than that?!“

Hannibal turns to him, grave in demeanor.

„I am serious, Will. How did seeing her, seeing them and delivering our judgement, fulfilling -my- promise, make you feel?“

Will clicks his tongue, tilts his head a bit and considers.  
In a way, it had felt good… one more chapter closed, his feelings towards Alana rather cold by now, her own change of character after that night in the kitchen vast and irreversible.  
Will remembers that weird, strangely pleasant conversation they shared when he visited Hannibal again for the first time. A sheer veneer of friendship hiding the politely and weary mantled feelings and desperate expectations. He never even asked her sons name, only knowing it now through the information relayed by Chiyo, his head back then only filled with the impression Hannibal forced there, the anticipation of their next meeting.

„I am… glad that she took it with grace… I am relieved to know that they will not hunt us anymore. I am… grateful that you let -me- do it.“

Hannibal hums, stroking his hand once more and then dropping it, turning slightly away from him.

„Did you think your judgement was appropriate?“

Will looks at him, his brows drawn together. He swallows.

„I… it was your judgment, so long ago. I amended it. I gave her time. Gave her the peace to live with it. For a while.“

Hannibal tilts his head, not looking at Will. When he speaks his voice is deceptively soft, the tone too even.

„Is this why you insisted so vehemently on the insanity plea at my trial, while being interrogated as a witness and victim in regards to the events prior to your incarceration, before the encephalitis? To give me time?“

Will releases a shuddering breath, floored by the question, now, here. He shakes his head in an attempt to clear his head, whispering, drawing the word out.

„Yes…“

He opens his mouth and closes it again, throat tight. He might have known this night would trigger that particular discussion. Goddammit. Will sighs, fidgeting, dropping his head back, eyes closed, voice painful.

„I think you know exactly how hard it is nowadays to get off with an insanity plea… The state attorney had discussed death penalty with the judge and … and Jack told me. And I… I made a deal.“

He spreads his hands at the last part, shrugging.  
Hannibal is a frozen statue next to him, attention fully leveled at Will. It’s a lead weight, pulling at his stomach. Hannibal voice is gravelly when he finally speaks.

„Whatever deal do you speak of, Will?“

Will laughs humorlessly, bordering on painful. He smirks, the smile a grimace.

„Well, apparently my little condition was still interesting enough for the powers-that-be behind the frigging ‚Evil Minds museum‘ to exchange the possibility of an insanity plea with the… acquiescence to… tests.“

He swallows, and closes his eyes against the possessive wave of ice-cold hatred he can feel emanating from Hannibal. Will puts his left hand on Hannibals right, trying to calm him a bit. It’s like petting a bulldozer. He curses quietly and continues.

„If it’s any consolation, most of them were harmless. They sent me to different doctors across the states, I got a headache again from all the stupid questions. The shock experiments weren’t so much fun. I was sick a bit. I travelled a lot. It’s why I wasn’t there to testify against you about… that night.“

Will laughs, bitterly.

„To be honest, I made fucking sure I wasn’t available then. If I remember correctly I even faked a stomach flu atop the friggin’ side effects of all those medication, so some appointment had to be rescheduled accordingly. Frederic did the rest, lying his fucking ass off for you. So did Alana, to be honest… but then, she was blinded by the possibility for revenge, you might say.“

He chances a look at Hannibals face, and sighs again, seeing the mask firmly in place. He forces himself to continue, whispering.

„I… did not want you to die…“

He closes his eye, his fists clenching tightly on his legs.

„At least not by anybodys hand but mine….“

He can see the twitch in Hannibals jaws at that. He doesn’t expect the next question, but then it should not have surprised him either.

„I sent my lawyer to Wolf Trap at the day of my sentencing, after I had not seen you there when they took me away. Where were you then?“

Will grimaces, not very keen to divulge that information. He chuckles wryly.

„High as a kite and drunk off my rockers, collapsing in Mollys backyard after my last test. She let me sleep on her veranda…“

Hannibal turns his head, looking at his profile. 

„This is how you met her?“

Will grimaces, but laughs slightly at the memory.

„Yeah… I took care of her dogs the next morning. We… started talking. She asked me to go for dinner that night. It was a shot at normalcy… and I needed that badly.“

He stands up, agitated, the memories unsettling. Hannibal voice is low, softly and dangerously molding the words.

„You refused me and delivered me, made sure I would stay alive and then tried to forget me, rotting in that… dungeon. An excellent and cruel judgment, -just- in it’s precision, dealt by you. What a vicious boy you are.“

Will grins grimly, something that feels suspiciously like rage bubbling up, turning to Hannibal.

„And you wouldn’t have me any other way…“

The smile Hannibal flashes him is beastly, his gait when standing up sending shivers down Wills spine. He pushes his hand through Wills hair, softly stroking his jaw in the process, stilling at his neck. 

„No, I indeed would not.“

He pushes closer to Will, biting harshly at his lips, breath hot on Wills face, hands dropping to Wills hips. Will tries to catch his lips, still unsettled and angry, and trying to put that into a bite of his own, but Hannibal draws back.

„I am afraid we should not linger.“

He steps back and walks over to his bike, sitting on it without further ado, grabbing for the helmet. Will growls low in his throat, furious now, and follows, batting the helmet out of Hannibals hands and straddling him in one move, blue eyes locking onto Hannibals red ones.

„Oh, no, my dear, we will not leave this little thing to fester. Remember who you’re talking to here. I know you.“

He emphasizes the last words with stabs of his forefinger to Hannibals chest, sensing more than feeling the brutal shift before Hannibal pulls him flush against himself.

„Oh, yes, beloved, do tell me. Is your judgment still valid?“

Will swallows, painfully and cruelly forcing down the anger, dropping his forehead to Hannibals shoulder for an instant, trying to ignore Hannibals petulant behavior, knowing full well its source, the impotent hatred fueled insecurity nothing to make fun of if he wishes to keep their relationship. He sighs and takes Hannibals right hand with his left again, raising it to his own forehead, makes him trace the scar there. The whisper is almost inaudible, Wills breath ghosting along Hannibals jaw.

„I was -so- done with all the shit… all the pain… all the… heartache. I thought… you had said you could live there for a while. Use your memory palace.“

Will chuckles wryly.

„Even then it was already not with, not without you… Bedelia would be so pleased…“

He pulls Hannibals left hand up with his right, links their left hands. 

„Look at us now, especially tonight, or better this morning….“

He can see the cracks forming as he speaks, Hannibal breaking slowly, hurt bleeding through his features, making him even more beautiful in Wills admittedly very biased opinion. He squeezes their linked hands, dropping his forehead against Wills.

„Very well. By your hand only.“

Will smiles softly, understanding the double meaning, the sentiment encompassing life, death and judgment in torturous harmony. He pushes his face up, pressing his lips to Hannibals, just holding for a moment, enjoying the instant need that flushes his veins. Hannibal grips his neck again with his right hand and pulls Will ever closer, making him tilt his head, Will softly laughing now, their mouths millimeters apart, sharing breath. The touch of his tongue is electric and Will moans with it, his own right hand grabbing Hannibals leather jacket tightly.  


[ ](http://hachiseiko.tumblr.com/post/150730966237/my-third-piece-out-of-three-that-i-made-for)

Will pushes forward, the kiss a wide, wet heat, it’s leisureness belying it’s intensity, their tongues stroking deeply. Hannibal growls and Will can feel it reverberate through his body, his leather pants already way too tight. Hannibal pushes slightly up, his groin catching under Wills, the pressure making Will light headed. The kiss turns sloppy, both slowly grinding now, the leather catching in places, gliding in others, the pressure of the leather equally helping and hindering. Will draws back from the kiss, licking his lips, sees Hannibal do the same, their eyes already so dark.

„Do we have some here?“

Hannibal bites at his jaw softly and then bends back to the saddle bag with their backpack, rummaging around before coming back up with a small packet of lube. Will smiles lewdly at him and draws his right leg up and over, turning sideways.

„We really should not linger too long here, you know… but then I’ve never done it on a bike… And one should never pass up the chance for new experiences…“

He is grinning now, pulling Hannibal into a kiss with the right arm around his neck. Hannibal draws back and his hands drop to Wills pants, dragging them roughly down and over his hips, Will only helping when absolutely necessary, enjoying the expression on Hannibals face, the hunger a barely veiled brutal need, gasping with the intensity.  
Hannibal kisses him again, biting on his tongue, nipping at his lips, down to the bruises on his throat, sucking on them and turning them ever darker, making Will moan. Will can feel Hannibal work on his own pants through the motions, knowing the exact moment he frees himself, the shift against his hip an afterthought to the deep groan that Will swallows down.

Hannibal rips the little packet open, squeezing the contents out in his left fist, dropping the wrapping to the ground uncaringly. He slowly traces along Wills hip with a fingertip, leaving a cold trail, making Will shiver and moan with anticipation.That finger slowly circles his entrance, teasing, until Will snarls at him.

„Get on with it… honey.“

Hannibal lightly smacks his hip with his other hand at that, Will grinning unrepentantly, knowing he’ll get his wish now. Hannibal pushes two fingers in, Will dropping slightly sideways onto the controls to give him better access, eyes closing of their own accord with the feeling, the burn almost nonexistent but the pressure exquisite. Hannibal changes to three almost immediately and Will hisses at that, and swivels his hips, making Hannibal go deeper, laughs at his gasp which earns him another light slap to his hip. Hannibal pulls his fingers out, dragging his fist over his cock, spreading the rest of the lube. Will pulls him for a quick, wet kiss, the angle not perfect to keep up and then Hannibal pushes him down and forward over the handlebars, on his side. Will drops his head to the cold metal, trying to calm his breathing, almost panting already. Hannibal pushes into him insistently, not particularly slow, the perfunctory opening making the feeling intense and Will thinks he can feel it in his throat, gasping for air, Hannibals hands on his hips burning and bruising.

Hannibal just holds for a moment, Will restricted to little movements of his hips, his legs trapped in his pants, balance hanging by a thread and Hannibals hands. Will can feel the leather of Hannibals pants rest against his ass, only pulled away for access and he tries to savor the feeling, so utterly erotic, Hannibals slight moments on the saddle creak loudly in the cold morning air and Will snickers, turning into an almost shout when Hannibal answers that with a deep thrust, unerringly angled. He pants, Hannibal holding again and groans, hearing Hannibals answering groan and then finally takes up some movement. It’s a rolling of hips at first, the drag inside Will making him light headed in no time, Hannibal angling just passed his prostrate now, only catching slightly, the promise of it crackling along his skin.

A sliver of light filters through the air, hitting Wills closed eyes and he opens them again, drawing up slightly, tilting his head back, breathing open mouthed, bathed in the first morning light, the light creating a halo around him. He more feels than hears Hannibal growl this time, the increasing pace making the sentiment quite clear, Hannibal shifting slightly, pulling Will down on every stroke now, each thrust a blinding intensity. Will pushes back on them, enjoying the pain of bruising fingertips and the urgency of their love-making, the need all consuming.  
Hannibal tilts Wills hips some more with his hands, forcing him to really hold onto the bike for balance now, hips not touching it anymore and sets a brutal pace now, the creaking of leather and the slapping of skin loud around them. Hannibal left hand comes down to Wills nape, gripping his hair tightly, pulling him up and Will moans deeply, letting himself be pulled up by it, the change in angle making him mewl and he lets himself fall into the feeling, his body surrendering his orgasm to the perfectly doled out pleasure, coming all over the controls of the bike, his cock untouched, his body simmering with pleasure.  
Hannibal pulls him viciously up even more and pushes his hips down with his other hand, stilling, riding Wills orgasm and letting the contractions pull his own orgasm from him, hot and pulsing in Will.

Will comes down from the high still panting, his breath fogging in the air, their bodies still intimately connected. Hannibal fist in his hair loosens, fingers dragging through his curls softly now, scratching at his scalp. Will shudders, feels Hannibal bend down and press a kiss to the scarred bite marks at his neck, the fingers on his hip gliding up under his jacket, tracing the smile on his stomach. He hums, pushing himself further up slowly and Hannibals hand goes from his hair to the front of his throat, pulling him up by it, the possessive gesture drawing a low moan from both. Hannibal holds Will fast against his chest for a long moment before he pulls his leg over and glides off with him, still connected, the movement triggering small aftershocks in Will. Hannibal turns them towards the bike and bends Will down over it by pressure on his throat, thumb pressing in his neck, Will moaning into it, feeling heavenly debauched. He puts his head to the saddle, hands holding on next to it, waiting, mind still more or less blank. Hannibal holds him there for a moment before he starts to pull out slowly, his hands both traveling to open Will for his gaze, thumbs replacing his his cock when it slips out. Will shudders and twitches desperately, oversensitive but as always utterly unwilling to object to any pleasure Hannibal may offer. Hannibal keeps his thumbs just inside for a long moment, twin points of need, only temporarily sated, their focus burning Wills awareness.

Hannibal pulls back with a small groan, kneading Wills ass for a moment before he steps back and turns around to get some tissues from the backpack, handing some to Will without comment. Will pushes up, knees unsteady, mind blissfully empty, cleaning himself. Hannibal comes over, takes the soiled tissues and pulls Will around, sinking to his knees in front of him. Will steadies himself against the bike, feeling Hannibal push his face to Wills crotch for a moment before he carefully and tenderly puts Will away, and pulls his pants up, the role reversal so typical for their mercurial relationship it doesn’t even blip on Wills radar anymore.  
He puts his hands into the silvery hair, softly stroking, and bends down for a soft kiss, the tenderness underlining the need, beasts sated now, chained by love.

Will drops his forehead to Hannibals, stroking along his jaw, words a soft murmur.

„C’mon, let’s go and make this nights promise an official statement… So judgement, if it ever comes, will be not on one but on the both of us…“

Hannibal pushes up slowly, keeping their foreheads together carefully, licking his lips, masks non existent, the lines in his face breathtakingly beautiful to Will.

„And let the heavens be our guide… and the gods deal out our judgment.“

Will smiles, the morning breeze ruffling his curls.

„Yes.“


	10. Chapter 10

They drive up to Idaho Falls, the 2 hour drive uneventful again in the early morning hours. The weight of the new ring on Wills finger is slightly greater than his old wedding ring, and he didn’t wear one for almost a year anyway, so his awareness drifts to it intermittently. His mind and heart feel too full and yet too light, the whole night dipped into the surreal, the road rushing by like a dream.

They sell the bikes at a shady shop, the owner grumpy at being woken so early, no questions asked, for a ridiculous low amount and take a cab to the station, Will keeping the scarf up, Hannibal pulling out his stupid cap, the contrast with his leather outfit making Will shake with mirth. They book a shuttle to Salt Lake City, no direct connection or even overnight train to Reno available and spend the wait till it’s departure applying makeup to Wills throat and face, the scarf too suspicious to wear all the time. The 4 hour ride is boring beyond measure and Will is ridiculously happy when he can get off again and stretch his legs.  
He changes his leather jacket to a jeans jacket he finds in one of the stations shops, putting a bandana around his head and sunglasses on, the overly expensive items totally worth the pained look on Hannibals face. Will even lets some of his southern accent shine through, completing the facade, or maybe just to tease Hannibal a bit more, who knows. They almost miss the train due to his impromptu shopping trip, the 9 hour trip to Reno at least made bearable by an onboard restaurant. They slip into their seats, watching other passengers hustle by, not looking at the both of them, their outfits underlining the vibe that can be instinctually felt, secluding them effortlessly. Hannibal looks at him and smiles softly, though nonetheless somewhat grumpy.

„No sleeping cabins… We will need to sleep in shifts, then. Sleep, Will, I do not require as much sleep as you know.“

Will leans over, not caring for the world and it’s sorrows and kisses him languidly, grinning.

„Yeah, a shame… though I doubt we’d have done much sleeping anyway… wake me when it’s my time to watch?“

Hannibal licks his lips, his gaze dark.

„Definitely.“

___________________

 

Will wakes on his own several hours into the trip, not particularly surprised but still peeved that Hannibal didn’t wake him after all. He pops his shoulders, his neck a mess as well and stands up, stretching. Hannibal must have been gone for a while, he realizes, his seat cold. 

It’s afternoon, the sun heating up the long cabin, most of the passengers gone to the observation deck in the front of the train. Will draws in on himself, looking into his feelings and then turns to the back of the train, passing through the different wagons, the last one almost deserted save an elderly couple, reading magazines, until he stands on the little back platform, caged in with a net, lest someone falls off. Will smirks wryly.

Hannibal stands in the rushing wind with closed eyes, his face turned to the sun. He reaches for Will without looking up, drawing him in, the embrace so tight it is almost painful. Will feels and hears the heartbeat thunder under his ears, and brings his hand up to look at his new jewelry. The brushed surface is matte, the sunlight swallowed by it almost completely, the beautiful darkness hinted at. It is perfect. 

He sighs and then turns his face into Hannibals chest, vaguely ashamed to voice the words, almost carried away by the wind.

„I… I feel terrible bringing this up, but what if we’re ever caught? They’ll take the rings from us, won’t they?“

Hannibal tightens his arms for an instant, though his voice is utterly calm.

„That does not negate their existence or the fact that they belong on our fingers.“

Will fidgets, trying to get the words right.

„No, but… if we’re ever caught, I want something to look at in it’s place that’s more permanent… There’s no guarantee Alana will be able to put us in adjoining cells after all…“

Hannibal draws back a few inches to look properly at his face.

„You asked her to do this?“

Will hums, somehow somewhat embarrassed.

„Well, yeah, I figured I could give it a shot? I mean, there are no guarantees, but….“

Hannibal chuckles softly and then kisses him deeply, tongue softly stroking before softly mouthing at his lips, the words vibrating with emotion.

„My beautiful boy. Your mind astounds me. We have already left several marks on each others skin. Whatever it is, that you wish to emphasize this union with, will be my pleasure.“

Will swallows, clicking his tongue, licking along his teeth.

„I want to put a small branding on our skin. Of a stylized stag head.“

Hannibal raises his eyebrows hat him, patiently waiting for an explanation while softly continuing mouthing along his jaw. Will tilts his head to give him better access, sighing, explaining quietly.

„It’s… it’s what my mind visualizes for our relationship. It started with Hobbs, the ravens on that dead girls body fluttering around, merging with the stags head and the swirling darkness of the kill. It’s followed me, my subconscious telling me who you were to me way before I even saw you stitch up that organ harvesters victim. It killed Georgia Madchen and attacked me, transforming into a Wendigo and then you when I killed Randall. It bled with me on your kitchen floor and the sword heart you left for me transformed itself into its grotesque incarnation, forcing me to reacquaint. It nudged me to keep going when Chiyo pushed me off that train… I see it towering over us when we make love….“ 

Will finishes with a whisper, further words failing him. Hannibal looks at him for a moment, then he fists Wills hair and eats his mouth, making Will groan deeply, his own hands going to Hannibals back, scratching over the long gone mark. Hannibal draws back, panting, snarling but laughing, keeping his grip on Will but lightly pushing him towards the wall. 

„I want you to make love to me, Will. Here, now. Draw our beast to watch over us in the broad daylight.“

Will raises his eyebrows, trying to get a look at the wagon behind them, the flimsy door rattling with the trains motion and unable to lock from their side.  
Hannibal harshly turns his head back.

„No. Ignore them. There is only me and you, now. They will not intrude.“

Will huffs at the proclamation, no statement, searching Hannibals eyes. He smirks wryly, shaking his head as much as he is able to in Hannibals grip.

„Christ, you’re insane.“

Hannibal grins at him sharply, expression smug.

„Well, I -was- officially declared as insane.“

Will snorts and then bites lightly at his lower lip, letting his hands drop to Hannibals hips, palming his ass slowly, remembering how it felt for him.

„You sure? We don’t have anything with us….“

Hannibal licks at his mouth, pushing his hips forward into Wills answering hardness, both groaning lightly.

„I believe I will survive.“

„Fuck…“

„Language, dear.“

Will snorts again and then groans when Hannibal pushes his right hand up his chest and over his nipples, pushing the jacket off, his left hand still locked in Wills hair. Will releases Hannibals hips to let the jacket drop, Hannibals hand already busy with his belt. He returns the favor, both undressing urgently yet languidly, dropping the clothes on a pile to use as bedding, stumbling slightly with the trains movement. Hannibal bears down over him, using his slight height advantage and his grip on his hair to force them down on their knees, and then down onto their sides, the wind sending goosebumps up Wills skin, the clothes uncomfortable to lie on, but he is so so turned on now, scared of hurting Hannibal yet wanting it badly.  
Hannibal chuckles at him, of course attuned to his thoughts the bastard, and draws a hand over the smile on his stomach, the action so familiar now it hurts. Will bends down and licks at Hannibals nipples until he moans with every touch, hissing when Will employs his teeth. Hannibal draws him back up by his hair, kissing sloppily, hips rolling into each other, smearing precome on their stomachs. Hannibal finally releases his head and draws the hand through the drops of fluid, gathering them up, kiss turning to open mouthed tonguing now, panting loud in their ears. Hannibal reaches back and Will follows his hand, just has to, not interfering, just feeling Hannibals hand in motion and Hannibal groans desperately into his mouth, his other hand closing over Wills dick, smearing the fluid around. Will comes up, panting, shaking his head frantically.

„It’s not enough, no….“

Hannibal doesn’t reply, just grabs Will by the hips and pulls him on top rolling over, silently spreading his legs, pushing Will down by the hips, effectively settling him there. Will feels Hannibals legs come up to his waist, and he is out of air, the sunlight a halo on Hannibals silvery hair, breaths coming in short puffs. Hannibal draws an arm around his shoulders holding tight, the other on Wills waist, holding him close.

„Do not stop.“

Will mewls and then snarls, pushing Hannibals hips up further, legs on his upper arms now. He freezes, panting, his pupils black, the wind whipping through his hair, the shadow of his curls flicking across Hannibals face. Hannibal smiles at him beatifically and then bares his teeth at him, calling to the beast. Will closes his mouth over Hannibals and pushes viciously, through the restriction, feeling Hannibals body give slightly with the force and swallows his grunt of pain, holding for a moment, shaking to the core. Hannibal throws his head back, breaking the kiss with a gasp, swallowing tightly, and then drops his legs down Wills arms until Will relocates them to his waist, locking them behind his back, groaning softly, the heat threatening to destroy his mind. He starts rolling his hips, fisting the clothes beneath them, knowing it’s too dry and tight, but not able to stay completely still any longer. Hannibal teeth are bared, his eyes locked on Will, the hunger in them unbroken and insatiable. He adds momentum to Wills movements with his legs, Will unable to withstand, their mouths inches from another, hissing through teeth, sharing breath, eyes locked, both of their souls stripped bare under their gazes. 

It’s still slow going, the burn just short of excruciating. Hannibal draws him closer, biting his mouth, his sharp teeth splitting his upper lip almost effortlessly. Will pulls up with a moan, watches his blood drip onto Hannibals face, sees him close his eyes in ecstasy, nostrils flaring. The coppery smell invades his senses, and he groans, hips twitching helplessly, making them both moan. Hannibal eyes open again, the look in them a heady mix of adoration, obsessive need and lust, tempered by love, accentuated by pain. It takes Wills breath away, the edges of his vision closing in, until it’s the only thing he sees. 

The sound of the train cars wheels changes its rhythm to the sound of hooves, closing ever in. Will moves minutely, feeding on Hannibals pained but desperate moans, the shadows on Hannibals face taking the forms of antlers and feathers. He holds Hannibals gaze, their connection the only important thing, the clicking of hooves near now. The puff of warm air on his sweaty back is anticipated, the ruffling of feathers almost loud above them and he can see the exact moment that Hannibal can see the visions effect in Wills eyes, his own widening in something akin to awe, Wills whisper almost carried away by the wind. 

„See?… See??“

Hannibal groans beneath him and licks at his bloody mouth and finally, finally his body gives, or maybe Will has supplicated enough precome but it gets suddenly easier, and Will sobs with relief, hands coming up to frame Hannibals face, kissing him deeply, finally taking up a proper rhythm, let’s the lust take over. Hannibal arm shifts and his hand goes into his curls again, the other a death grip on his hips, likely leaving purple bruises there as well. Will hisses sharply and starts powering now, hips snapping in an unrelenting rhythm that has Hannibal rigid under him in no time, Will knowing his body so well and Will grins at him fiercely, and, locking eyes again, takes one hand down and grabs his leg, the other going to Hannibals neck, gripping tightly.

There’s a growl in Hannibals throat, and Will covets it, needs it, his thrusts forcing it up and he answers it when it breaks free. Their movements are erratic now and he is dragging his hand from Hannibals leg to grip his cock between them, twisting his fist just -so- in their rhythm and Hannibal shatters spectacularly beneath him, shaking apart, jerking, destroyed by pain and lust, painting them both. He is silent through it, holding Wills gaze and Will only realizes he is crying when the tears fall into the drops of blood in Hannibals face and trail down, diluting the color, bright red and glowing orange in the sunlight. He stills in Hannibals embrace, feeling the aftershocks trigger his own orgasm, almost inconsequential now, washing over him, Hannibal whispering something he cannot understand against his lips. 

It’s some time later, both indulging in the afterglow, that Hannibal moves slightly and his back pops, making him laugh in amused self-mockery, the laugh more free and light that Will has ever heard from him and his heart seizes at the sound. Hannibal licks at the wound in his lip, cleaning the blood he can reach, finally releasing his fingers from his hip, Will drawing back, pulling out, both hissing. Will drops his forehead to Hannibals, his fingers drawing feather light circles through his sideburns, and sighs, completely grounded now. He slowly starts to return the favor, tongue softly rasping over the drying rivulets of blood on Hannibals face, even more salty from his tears. 

When he is done, he looks at Hannibal for a long moment, trying to commit this moment to memory, knowing Hannibal does the same. He swallows, and kissing him lightly has to ask, voice gravelly.

„What did you say just now?“ 

Hannibal smiles at him sharply, teeth flashing, his hand coming up to trace the soft skin under Wills left eye.

„I said that I could indeed see… I could see it in your eyes, and I saw it’s shadow fall across the altar of our mind palace, invited by your mind.“

„Is it? Is it -ours- now?“

„It has been ours for years now, ever since I discovered you there, victorious.“

Will hums, and leans down to kiss him softly, slowly extracting himself when they part, his own back popping in the process. He snorts.

„You know, we really should stick to beds for this. We’re both not so young anymore…“

Hannibal grins, unashamed and carefree in the afternoon sun.

„Now, my beautiful boy, where would be the fun in that?“

Will snorts and picks up his clothes.


	11. Chapter 11

Will sits down in the board restaurant, still blushing, the elderly couple having asked them if they enjoyed their stay on the platform when they passed, Hannibal of course smugly assuring them, that indeed they did. He’s still smirking, ignoring Wills skunk eye, utterly pleased with himself though Will can see with grim satisfaction that he has to hold himself carefully, especially while sitting down. 

The waiter comes and they order pasta, Hannibal deeming that the most certainly only appropriate item on the menu, and Will agrees, but insists on a beer for himself instead of wine, Hannibal making a face at him.

They spend the last hour of their trip there, soaking up the relative peace and quiet, lunch hour way gone, the wagon almost empty. Will puts his Bandana and glasses back on when they exit, Hannibal insisting on separate paths, returning by different cabs to the little valet parking garage they put their red station wagon in.

They take it out, retrieve their bags from storage and set out to drive down to Vegas, taking the slightly longer route, curving along the mountains and through death valley, the 8 hour trip almost meditative, only stopping for fuel and food, Will driving this time. Hannibal relaxes against the head rest, window open, the wind rushing by playing with his hair, the night beautiful.

They find another run down motel in the suburbs in Las Vegas, just clean enough, and rent separate rooms as a precaution, using one only as storage of course. They set up an impromptu foto booth, snapping pictures with their phones until they get a suitable one, the process unintentional hilarious, making it rather hard to keep their features straight for passport requirements, Wills throat camouflaged by makeup. 

Hannibal sets up the Macbook and Will spends hours perfecting the little design, adjusting it until it resonates in him. Hannibal searches his eyes for a moment and then presses a kiss to his temple, before taking the Macbook from him, sending a request for a custom made branding iron and their correct identification to Chiyo, Will snickering lightly at what she would probably think about this. 

Will clicks his tongue and leans close, tone hesitant.

„I am aware that this is a rather stupid risk, but I’d really like to see you in a suit for this….“

Hannibal smirks at him, raising his eyebrows.

„Well, we are in Las Vegas. If we forego the plaid for now we should indeed be safe until we voluntarily enter our credentials. Would you be adverse to a tuxedo? I have never seen you in one, you would be stunning.“

„I… I had actually thought more about a style like in that movie ‚Rain Man‘… do you mind? In modern of course…“

Hannibal turns back to the Macbook, wordlessly googling pictures for the movie, making Will laugh out aloud.

_______________________

 

The branding iron arrives after a few days via a little package in front of their door, only quarter of an inch across and all delicate lines. Will traces his fingertips along the tiny lines, letting it rest in his left hand, next to the ring. He jumps when there is a knock on the door, Hannibal pushing passed him, checking the window. He opens the door a few inches, Will behind it, revealing a run down teenager, most likely drug addicted, offering him an envelope in return of ‚the fucking cash‘. Hannibal ‚tsks‘, and retrieves a thick envelope, containing most of their remaining cash, exchanging it. The teen takes off without another look, too busy counting.

Hannibal closes the door and then quietly offers the envelope to Will who takes it with shaking fingers, pulling out a brand new passport with his own name on it. He opens Hannibals, tracing his fingers over the last names, looking up, searching Hannibals eyes.

„We… never talked about this before. Do we… share names? Do you want to?“

Hannibal face is unreadable, mask firmly in place, unsettling after so long without, making Will fidget. Hannibal takes a felt eternity to answer.

„I will adhere to your wishes.“

Will gapes, and raises his eyebrows, confused.

„Well, is this something you want, or not?“

Hannibal stalks near, crowding Will against the wall next to the door, mask breaking, vulnerability bleeding through.

„I would wish for us to share the same name, yes.“

Will is breathless, licking his lips.

„Well, then how do we wanna do this? One of them? Both?“

Hannibal breathes against his mouth.

„Graham-Lecter. It sounds better with our true names than the other combination.“

Will shudders and groans.

„You’ve given that some thought…“

„I had a lot of time, thinking about marriages and their incarnations when I was incarcerated.“

Will swallows, deeply feeling the pain exuded by Hannibal.

„Were you aware before… before I came to you because of the Dragon?“

Hannibal hums, a grim note to it.

„Alana made sure I was aware. She came to me the day you married, eating a piece of elaborate cake in front of my… cage, drinking champagne. I knew you would not have had invited her, and yet… “

Will breathes out slowly.

„That’s why you were so furious at her, you had years to plan your revenge.“

He is not quite sure, who exactly he means by ‚her‘, but then it doesn’t matter, the sentiment fitting for both.

„Yes.“

Will nods, and then smiles, letting the past go once more.

„Graham-Lecter it is.“

Hannibal swallows tightly, ghosting his mouth over his again.

„We will have to go tonight, then. The identification we just received will be entered into the system this afternoon, just before offices close, it will likely kickstart the hunt again. The drive-through chapels is open until 2 a.m. Let us go shop for appropriate clothing.“

_________________________

 

They decide to ignore caution this time, their stay already on borrowed time, only wearing caps entering the subterranean shopping mall beneath the Caesars, it’s mediterranean flair making Will smile, the people swarming around them effectively covering them up.  
Hannibal insists on Armani, relaying their exact measures and an explicit fabric definition to the sales guy, sending him off in a rush, while they go and try on shoes. They pass the tie section, Will raising his eyebrows in question, clicking his tongue, remembering the ship.

„So, about those ‚promises, promises‘…“

Hannibal tilts his head to Will, his breath hot on his ear, making him shiver.

„I think we may not be able to stay in one place for long for our honeymoon, but trust me Will, I do intend to make up for it.“

Will licks his lips and selects some white satin ties, Hannibal looking on curiously.

„White?“

Will smiles lewdly, eyes rapidly going black.

„Well, if you behave, I’ll let you put some red on them later.“

He turns and smiles beatifically at the returning sales guy, feeling the heat of Hannibals gaze burn, relishing the wildfire, only kept at bay for appearances sake.

The suits they are offered are matching gray-blue with white shirts, the suits color changing ever so slightly, it’s cut typical sleek italian, modern. Will traces along a seam already knowing it’ll fit. When he looks up, Hannibals red eyes burn the world.


	12. Chapter 12

It is close to 1 a.m., Will adjusts the platinum cufflinks Hannibal insisted on in front of the mirror, when Chiyos text informs them that their new old identification has indeed raised red flags at Quantico, though they apparently do not know where they are. Yet. Will muses that Alana really has taken her part of the bargain to heart. He sees Hannibal come up behind him, their suits blending into one another in the dim light. Hannibal runs a hand down his back, making him shiver. They have already packed, ready to run, their car switched at another shady dealer for an old black Dodge.

Will turns and his gaze falls on the branding iron, still on the little table.

„Where will we do that?“

„It is the first of October today… we will find or start some garbage dump fire and heat it up there… I am aware that this is not the most romantic location, but I am afraid that looking for hotels with an open fire is out of the question now. As is looking for a branding studio. We will have to do this by ourselves.“

Will grins, and snorts once.

„Trash branding… it kinda sounds like a lyric from ‚Bad Romance‘“.

Hannibal does a little elegant motion that might have been a shrug on other people.

„We can wait if you wish. We will find an open fire or a place for it somewhere down the road.“

Will shakes his head vehemently. 

„No. Tonight. Nothing or all.“

______________________________

 

Their dodge roars down the street a few minutes later, and Will can feel his heart in his throat, wondering distantly why he is so nervous, having already touched all the bases with Hannibal. And then some. He shakes his head at himself, ignoring Hannibals sidelong look. He wasn’t so nervous at his previous wedding for heavens sake. He slightly starts when Hannibal puts a hand on his leg, the effect instantly calming and covers it with his own, breathing slowly through his nose.

The pull up to the ‚Tunnel of love‘, it’s gaudy design tasteless beyond comparison, the little sign promising weddings as fast as 5 minutes. He takes out their identification with shaking fingers, finally looking at Hannibal, mouth dry. He smiles wryly, tracing a finger along Hannibals jaw.

„I guess it really is different if you mean the words…“

Hannibal eyes crinkle, though his gaze is beyond hungry now, expression tightly controlled. Will feels slightly guilty towards Molly, his feelings then genuine but a pale shadow to this. He breathes slowly, deliberately pushing the past away as Hannibal pulls up to the counter, hands over their identification, the woman at the cashier smiling very fake and very tired and bored, entering their details into the computer dispassionately. 

Will fidgets, knowing that somewhere across the country a siren flares up at this exact moment and that the Las Vegas police will likely be dispatching units within 5 minutes. She prints out the base certificate and waves at them to proceed down the tunnel. Hannibal takes it and their identification with a small smile and rolls down the lane until they stop next to the official, who just finishes with the previous couple, obviously very drunk. Will feels like he could do with a whiskey or two now as well, but knows he has to stay clear headed. 

They get out, wanting to get at least one of the idiotic photos, even if time is short, Will snorting even as he steps up to the platform. The official turns to them, smiles a wide fake smile, obviously exhausted by the night and bids them to stand before the camera. Hannibal looks at Will and offers his hand, the world falling away and Will turns to him, ignoring the camera and just tries to put all his feelings into the gaze, the fathomless blackness of Hannibals eyes scorching with intensity. The flash jerks him back to reality and he huffs a laugh, stepping back down, feeling slightly out of his body. The official prints the image on the laser printer, thankfully very fast, Hannibal removing the SD-card when his back is turned, slipping it into his pocket. 

The official turns to them, frowning at his iPad and then looks up at Hannibal with an bewildered expression. Well, that was fast. Will feels his heart speed up, the tunnel closing in on his vision, red heat and fury. Hannibal eyes are glittering, icy cold, belying the rage Will can see twitching under the mask. He steps up to the man, right next to Hannibal, and puts a hand on Hannibals heart, feeling it thunder against his palm, so untypical it almost makes him weep with the emotion it belies. Wills harsh whisper carries over the blaring music just barely.

„If you know what’s good for you, you’ll complete the form. Fast. Enter our new name, let us sign it, submit it, and we’ll be gone. I’m sure you know what the alternative would be…“

The mans eyes lock on his, flit to Hannibal and then to the iPad again. There are sirens in the distance and Wills fingers twitch and he snarls quietly. The man swallows and enters their new name with shaking fingers, the seconds stretching unbearably. Hannibal takes the offered pen from the man silently, motions barely controlled and signs their certificate with a flourish and Will rips the pen from Hannibals hand, also signing his new name without further ado. He puts the certificate and the pen on the iPad with a small click, stepping up to the man. The official signs the certificate, almost hyperventilating, the sirens only a few blocks away now. Will looks on, his eyes frantic now, and takes the mans forefinger and pushes it to the submit button, the man sobbing now, putting his thumb on the scanner though nonetheless, the little beep confirming their official marriage, pulling gravity from under Will, the police car screeching to a halt in front of the exit an otherworldly vision. Hannibal rips the certificate from the mans hands, takes his husband of all of two seconds by the hand and runs through the side exit, leaving their car, equipment and old life behind.

_____________________

 

They sprint through the back alleys, rushing through kitchens and bars, taking a cab that fortunately just drops off another passenger when they cannot quite hear the sirens anymore. Will clenches his fists, nails biting until the pain calms him a bit, Hannibal a frozen statue next to him, still clutching the identification, the certificate and the photo. Will checks his wallet, laughing humorlessly at the 50$ he possesses, the fake credit cards worthless now that their car is in police hands. Hannibal instructs the driver to take them to Las Vegas downtown, his voice flat, emotionless, the trip reducing their cash to 20$. They get off near a stylish bar, still crammed at this time, and go through it and out through the back door, short circuiting the alarm. They turn towards the north center part of town, making their way towards Woodlawn Cemetery, it’s proximity to United States Veterans likely to draw the homeless, Will almost gasping with relief when he see the glow of fire in the distance. 

He stops, some of his desperation fading, replaced by resolution, holding out a hand to Hannibal who grips it tightly. Will smiles a tight smile and walks towards the fire, his other hand fidgeting with the little branding iron in his pocket.

They stop next to the fire, the man that started it obviously in drunk stupor, and look at each other for a moment. Hannibal drops his hand slowly turning to take the mans scarf, holding it out for Will who winds it around the handle. He puts the iron in the fire, it’s soon red orange glow matching the turbulent feelings in him. 

Hannibal comes towards him slowly, and puts his nose in the hair at his temple, just breathing, hands fidgeting with the hem of Wills jacket, betraying the outward calm.

„Where do you wish to put it, beloved?“

Will leans towards him slightly and then holds out his left wrist to him.

„Would you open the cuffs? I want to go first this time…“

Hannibal complies, brushing back the shirt softly, folding it gently up under the jacket, already aware of the location Will has picked. Will looks down into the fire, sees the reddish glow change ever lighter. Hannibal whisper is soft.

„Ready, my love?“

Will nods, throat tight. Hannibal takes the handle from him and Will holds out his left wrist to him, palm up, stabilizing his arm with is other hand. Hannibal turns slightly into him, gently taking his arm in his left hand and pulls the iron up. Will nods again, bracing, but cannot help yelling through his clenched teeth when the iron marks his pulse point, the pain flaring and overwhelming, the stench of burned flesh nauseating, the red glow of the abstract stag head glowing on his white skin when Hannibal rips the iron away finally, almost shaking as badly as Will.  
Will tries to stabilize his breathing, his arm aflame, yet so elated, almost in tears. He shakes his head to clear it, his forehead descending on Hannibals shoulder for a moment. He smiles widely at Hannibal, laughing giddily and Hannibal huffs a laugh back at him. He takes the handle back from Hannibal, swallowing, switching positions slowly with him. Hannibal removes his own cuff links, folding the shirt up, holding out his wrist, utterly calm now. Will pulls the iron out and looks up at Hannibal, needing to see his eyes. Hannibal smiles and breathes a kiss at the corner of Wills eye.

„Please, beloved.“

Will releases his breath in a rush, grabs Hannibals arm and puts the iron down, the sizzling making him lightheaded though Hannibal is eerily calm and quiet. He rips the iron off after a few seconds, letting it drop to the ground, staggering. Hannibal embraces him from behind, presses a kiss to his head and they just stand for a while, the serene atmosphere broken when Will laughs once more, this time freely, seething at the world.

„We did it.“

Hannibal tightens his arms for a moment, his voice unsteady for no-one but Will.

„Yes. They will hunt us now. Again.“

Will turns in his arms, his expression dark.

„They can try…“

Hannibal smiles dangerously, teeth flashing in the dark, glittering in the fires glow.

„They -will- try, beloved… Do you still wish to uphold that Christmas appointment?“

Will grins, his smile answer enough and he leans up, sealing it with a kiss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  
> 
> .... my mind insisted while writing to add hooks for SotL....  
> It will be a while, but apparently that is on the horizon.  
> Go figure. :)
> 
> Hope you liked it! :)


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